Reading between the Lines
by lilyvandersteen
Summary: Fluffy Klaine one-shot in which Kurt is watching Blaine read one of his books, and they discuss adopting children. Set in the Weave Your Magic verse.


Reading between the Lines

Author's Note: This is a fluffy one-shot I wrote for Klainescolfer, who was the lucky 100th reviewer on Weave Your Magic. The prompt: "I'd like a fluffy story with Blaine reading a book curled up in an armchair and wearing glasses, while Kurt is designing." I wrote it as part of the 'Weave Your Magic' verse, a vision of the future. So this is for you, Klainescolfer. I hope you like it, and I wish you a very happy birthday on Christmas Eve, and many happy returns!

"_Never did she find anything so difficult as to keep herself from losing her temper when she was suddenly disturbed while absorbed in a book. People who are fond of books know the feeling of irritation which sweeps over them at such a moment. The temptation to be unreasonable and snappish is one not easy to manage._" (Frances Hodgson Burnett, _A Little Princess_)

Kurt looked up from his sketches and smiled. He had told Blaine to install himself comfortably in an armchair nearby while he finished designing his seasonal accessories.

He was pleased with the bowties, ties, suspenders and belts he'd designed. They all had a Christmas feel and look to them and the colours were as festive as the patterns. He'd make the holly suspenders for Nick and the mistletoe tie for Jeff. He could totally see Jeff holding his tie above his and Nick's head and proclaim that they had to kiss - "Look, mistletoe!"

Not that Niff ever needed an excuse for any kind of PDA. They were worse than even Blaine and Kurt themselves, though they had been married longer, and they were refreshingly unapologetic about it. Their daughter Lily was just like them. She never knew a stranger and smothered her daddies and their colleagues, family and friends in kisses and hugs.

Kurt secretly hoped his and Blaine's children would be cuddle bears, too. If nurture primed over nature, they were sure to be. Any child of Blaine's would be affectionate and sweet and touchy-feely to the point of having no sense of personal space.

Kurt looked over his designs. His fingers were itching to start cutting fabric and bring his vision to life. The bowtie he liked best, a night blue one with a snow landscape, would make a lovely Christmas present for Blaine. It would suit the shirt that Kurt had made for Blaine and would present to him on Christmas Eve. The shirt was made of luxurious silk in a warm burgundy hue that reminded Kurt of the cardigan Blaine had worn when he first said 'I love you'.

Looking up, smiling softly at the memory, he saw Blaine curled up in the armchair with an advanced copy of the latest Mark Easterbrook novel in his lap, occasionally pushing his thick-rimmed reading glasses back up on his nose.

Blaine was quite a vocal reader, laughing hard or chuckling under his breath when he found something funny, muttering mutinously and rolling his eyes if something happened he didn't agree with, and egging on the characters to 'Just do it!' or 'Get a move on!' regularly.

Whenever he got to an exciting passage, he would gnaw his knuckles and hunch over, his eyes growing larger and the tips of his ears reddening.

Sad stories would have him sobbing and soaking handkerchiefs, and lamenting the fate of the protagonists with heart-felt anguish.

But above all, he was a reader who did not take kindly to being disturbed. Kurt had once made the mistake of summoning Blaine to dinner when he was just nearing the end of an exciting book. Kurt had jumped back aghast at the feral growl that ripped from Blaine's throat and the death glare his husband levelled at him. The subsequent fight had been epic and explosive, but by the end of it, Blaine knew not to start reading when it was almost time to eat, and Kurt knew not to disturb Blaine while he was reading.

So Kurt didn't tell Blaine that his work was done and that all the designs were finished. He just settled back in his chair and watched him read with a fond smile on his face.

Kurt was looking forward to Blaine's assessment of his latest brain child. Blaine was a fierce fan of Kurt's novels, but that didn't stop him from criticising certain aspects of them. He would explain at length what he liked about the new book, and what could have been developed better, and he would invariably find some typos and grammatical errors that not even the editors had noticed.

Kurt firmly believed that his writing had improved since he had met Blaine and got his feedback regularly. He did the same for Blaine's books, of course, reading the stories carefully and pointing out what could be improved upon, but Blaine had such an innate grasp of the English language and wielded it so powerfully and so well that Kurt hardly ever had remarks.

So Kurt sat back, twirling a pencil between his fingers, watching and waiting. He could gather from Blaine's facial expressions and muttering whereabouts in the story he was, and enjoyed seeing Blaine's reactions to what he had written.

_He has such an expressive face. I love that about him._

Sooner than Kurt had expected, though, Blaine's head flew up.

"Kurt," he pouted, "You promised Devon and Charles wouldn't adopt before we did."

Kurt chuckled.

_I might have known how he'd react to that._

"I know I did, sweetie, and I promise you they won't," Kurt reassured Blaine. "The book won't be out until February next year, and look what came in the mail today?"

He showed Blaine an official-looking letter.

Blaine took the letter from Kurt and read it through quickly, his eyebrows flying up and his face lighting up in excitement. "Next Wednesday? Oh, I need to go finish the frieze in the nursery! And can we go pick out a teddy bear for each of them? And I want to personalize their cribs. Oh, I can't wait!"

Without waiting for a reply, Blaine rushed out of the living room, paying no heed to his treasured book, which fell from his lap and lay abandoned on the floor, a few dog-ears richer.

Kurt tilted his head consideringly. Now that was interesting. Blaine had completely forgotten about the novel. And if he had reached the part where Devon and Charles discuss adopting a child, he ordinarily would have wanted to read on, because by then, the investigation was in full swing and Devon was gathering clues right, left and centre. Yet he'd thrown the book to the ground without sparing it another glance. And if the sweet melody coming from the nursery was any indication, Blaine was in a very good mood.

_Aha! Very interesting! Guess who I'll send to coax Daddy to put down his book and come to dinner from now on?_


End file.
